Hooked, Lined & Single by Rashmi

Author:Rashmi [Rashmi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mobilism
Published: 2014-10-31T18:30:00+00:00

Mission Mush and Back

Trying isn’t everything

After the Avirook sex debacle, I was terribly guilty.

What happens is when you are constantly reminded that you need a man in your life and that you are solely responsible for his absentia, you start wondering if you really are. There must be something terribly wrong you might have done to not enjoy the sweet fruit of a stable companionship.

While I have already mentioned what others think about you if you are single or were once married, wanting to marry again, or were never married and wanting to marry, you pretty much think about yourself not very differently from what they think about you. You undergo this whole pitiable process of self-doubt and low self-esteem. So when your mom says “you can’t adjust,” you really believe it more than a prankster who’d turn around to say that the colour of your eyes has changed from black to blue. When your cousin says “you are stubborn,” you start remembering the last time you rolled on the floor and threatened to give up on food because all you wanted to eat was candy floss for dinner. When your neighbour tells you, “you need to lower your sails,” you wonder how, because there were such big holes on them, that they needed repair, not lowering. They do.

And with each passing birthday, as the number of candles increase on your chocolate truffle cake, you can feel it within your gut that your confidence has taken an equally sharp dive. You get more and more known for high-sounding, gob-smacking, bamboozling attributes like overtly ambitious, hotheaded, stuck up, selfish and those with a tender heart feel nothing but sorry for you. You feel sorry for yourself too. I want to add another attribute here – desperate.

So after all that had happened, I shouldn’t have called up Avirook, right? Any self-respecting, sensible, logical person wouldn’t, yes, any person with these traits wouldn’t, but I went right ahead and called him up.

“I think we need to meet.”

“No, I think we need to get lessons on respecting people.”

So this day he needed to write his book, on another day he had an aunt to meet, yet on another occasion, he’d just rolled a joint and needed solitude.

“Should I say you are trying to avoid me?”

“Get a grip over your life, Alafia.”

“That can wait. First let’s get some nice dinner together.”

He relented.

“So what’s your problem, do you have to insult me again?”

“Man, look at you, Avirook. So angry, huh?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“Sure, should definitely be.”

“Then?”

“Then… we connected so well…”

Our plateful of Sole came sizzling on the platter. The butter ran in tiny rivulets across the baked carrots, beans and cauliflower florets. The French fries looked just as pounce-able with a fresh sprinkle of salt and black pepper resting on the fried pale yellow hill.

In between the juicy morsels, Avirook shot a glance at me through his bloodshot eyes. It was not difficult to tell that the hashish was playing up in his blood now. But he still looked attractive.

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